Midnight's Kiss
by emeralddarkness
Summary: -CotN by VVV- The vampires are coming, the vampires are coming! -PLEASE READ AUTHOR NOTE AT BEGINNING-
1. Chapter One

Midnight's Kiss  
emeralddarkness

**Summery:** [Companions of the Night by VVV) The vampires are coming, the vampires are coming![NEED BETA.)  
**Rating: **PG-13/T  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything that you recognize, that being the property of the lovely Vivian Vande Velde. Anything that you do not recognize, however, is MINE so don't steal it or I will HUNT YOU DOWN.

So, before I start this, let's say something. I'M SORRY. I am not dead, nor have I been locked up for the past… ah, almost 2 years (wince, wince; cringe, cringe) which really makes my leaving this story hanging so long unforgivable. I haven't even forgotten the story. I can't decide if that is good or bad (good – I didn't forget it; bad – so what excuse can I give) but at least I didn't forget it. That's a bonus. Right?

Once again, I'm sorry. This canon has a small but loyal fanbase, and I'm sorry that those of you who were reading this before and are still reading it (or stumble across it again, either one) that you had to wait so long for an update. So now that that's over with, would you like to hear the excuses? Ok, here are the excuses.

I was finishing up High School first, and my schedule was quite literally nothing but AP and Early College classes, which I had to pass. Once I graduated I got not just one but _two_ jobs, which meant my free time was still nil. And then my computer (which had had nothing but a floppy drive to transfer files with – no CD burner, no internet, etc etc – and I ran out of floppies and couldn't make it to the comp store for more) died (yes, this is the second comp this has happened to), taking all of my stories with it – including the future chapters of this one. That meant I had to start re-writing from scratch, and when I tried that I couldn't get back into the writing style I had when I started writing this, as it's changed (hopefully for the better) quite a bit since then. So then I tried rereading (online – lost the ones I had on the comp, remember) to try and pick up where I left off and no, I decided that I had to rewrite it. So here we are. Hopefully this version is better – it's longer, certainly.

A few more things before I actually let you read the chapter – 1. _I. NEED. A. BETA. __READER._ Look at it this way – a beta'er can hound me for the next chapter in a more interactive way then just with reviews. Sound good? Drop a review, I'll send you an email. And 2., I'm not going to put a disclaimer at the beginning of every chapter – up at the top there applies to the whole story. Ok? Ok. Thanks.

**Chapter One**

Tic. Tic.

Kerry Nowicki lay on her bed and watched her alarm clock count down seconds, watched as the red hand moved again and again and again. Watched time pass, and wondered at it all.

Tic. Tic. Tic.

It had been a year since she'd seen him. A year of counting seconds, a year of this odd feeling that nothing was ever going to change as things changed at an almost vicious pace, the clock and the passage of time reaching inside her chest and squeezing her heart in a motion that felt like pain as, paradoxically, absolutely nothing changed. Oh it was stupid, of course – stupid of her and pathetically hopeful (or maybe hopeless… jeez, why wasn't she resigned yet?) – but she couldn't. She'd tried, but she _couldn't_ forget about him. She'd tell herself that she was going to, order herself to forget about him-

-_it was only just a silly little crush anyway, he'd probably forgotten all about her, it was really pathetic to keep on thinking about him, to be hung up after all this time, she needed to move on, she was living in the past, this wasn't healthy_-

-and then she'd go out, newly resolved, and she'd see a blue car drive by that she'd think for just a moment might be his or when she was working, checking out person after person after person, she'd see someone move with a familiar grace or she'd think she'd catch the glint of impossibly blue eyes in an almost familiar face and she'd loose it again. Possibly this was the reason she'd become what Ian liked to call a hermit. And fine, it was true, she didn't go out a lot and she didn't do much of anything but that was because it seemed like whenever she tried she saw _him_ in the face of some random stranger or someone would walk by and she'd think that they looked familiar or _this_ or _that_….

_I really need to stop living in the past,_ she thought again. It didn't have any more affect then the last time she'd told herself that, about two minutes ago, but hey, at least it was something. At least she could tell herself 'I tried' when she got fed up with how pathetic she was being. Again.

Stupid thing. Kerry closed her eyes and once again he was there – teeth flashing in a smile and black hair hanging into his eyes and blue eyes glinting in that wicked, dangerous, impossibly alluring way that she remembered way better then she should. He. Him. He-him, her vampire who she was trying not to name because she was trying to let go, to move on. It wasn't working particularly well. The girl sighed then shook her head, as though she thought she could physically shake the image away (not that it worked, of course – it never did) and opened her eyes again. She held Corny out at arms length and regarded the bedraggled unicorn.

"So what am I supposed to do, huh?" she asked the toy. Corny, predictably, said nothing. Kerry rolled her eyes - half at herself and half at the unicorn - then pulled her back and hugged her. "Don't understand why I bother asking you anything," she muttered good naturedly to Corny. Oh well. At least she wasn't so far gone that her toys started talking back. She was crazy enough as it was. Because really, what else could you call this continuing obsession over someone who'd probably not thought of her since she'd last seen him, just over a year ago? Honestly? Especially as that she'd only known him for all of three days. Not even just that, actually – how many times had he threatened to kill her in the space of those three days? How many times had he lied to her?

Nuts, that's what it was. Crazy.

"I've lost it," she told the unicorn in a conversational way. She sighed again. "I should just forget him. Forget everything."

Only….

"… stupid vampire."

She couldn't seem to help it; that was the real problem here. He was trapped in her thoughts like a fly in amber – or not trapped, trapped made it sound like she had some kind of control here and she _didn't_. He'd seized her thoughts, taken them over, spread throughout her mind until it was really hard for her to find something that she could do without being reminded of him. And when she did nothing at all….

She'd long since lost count of the number of times he'd changed her in her dreams. He'd be there and he'd ask her if he could change her and half the time she'd say no and half the time she'd say yes – when she said yes he'd gently tilt her head to the side and lower his mouth to her neck and there would be a brief prick, a moment of pain, then she'd be lost in a sweet, seductive, heady rush that felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before and when she said no then either he'd accept that or he wouldn't and when he didn't she'd _run_ but it was never far enough or fast enough and there were lips and then teeth at her neck and a pain so fierce that it was joy as he drank her blood and it felt so good that the world might end and she would neither know nor care-

Kerry wondered yet again if she'd do things differently if given the chance to do so. Yet again she was left without an answer. Possibly the problem was that despite the fact that she was reminded at him of every turn she still had no idea what to make of him. Then again, what was one _supposed_ to make of a vampire who one began one's acquaintance with by supposedly saving his life and then who drove you home and then who pinned you to a wall and threatened to kill you too and then who teased you and then who used you and who you fell in love with without noticing…?

Not that it mattered, since he'd probably forgotten all about her in the time since she'd last seen him. Briefly the thought left her annoyed – _you'd think that someone who was immortal, who knows practically everything, who was teaching himself JAPANESE of all things in his spare time, would have a better memory then that _– and then the feeling faded and she was left feeling mildly depressed yet again.

Stupid vampire.

"What am I supposed to do, Corny?" she asked, and her voice was soft and quietly despairing. What could she do, after all?

Nothing.

He'd forgotten her, she just needed to move on. Unrequited love – as good as it sounded in the stories – in reality really sucked. It was bad for her, she needed to move on – she needed to be human, lead a relatively normal life. Or as normal a life as she _could_ have anyway, given that she knew about a slightly darker side of the world, one that was supposed to only exist in storybooks but somehow didn't, had stepped from the pages of a horror novel and into reality and somehow lost some of the horror along the way because vampires were real people-

It would probably be easier if she could at least _contact_ him to tell him that she was forgetting him and so he could just bug off and please-move-out-of-her-head-thank-you-very-much but she couldn't even do that. It wasn't like she had phone number or even a mailing address. Oh sure she knew where the house that she so admired, the one with the piano where he'd played for her after her own utterly pathetic attempt to play something was and it had belonged to Ethan – or at least his fictitious uncle. But 'Ethan' was dead now, killed by Gilbert Marsala, so the house was empty. He was elsewhere. This hadn't stopped Kerry leaving notes in the slim little mailbox that was nailed next to the front door once or twice when she was feeling particularly desperate. One time she'd even left a photograph.

It had been months ago now – their dad had decided to splurge and take them all to California over the summer. They'd gone to Disneyland and Ian had nearly blown a gasket over being able to actually meet Buzz Lightyear (that picture was SO cute), but the photo in question had been taken at the beach. It had been nearly one o'clock on a cloudless day and the waves were sparkling in the light, the sky was so perfectly, heart-rendingly blue that it had made Kerry think of his eyes. She and Ian were playing with an inflatable beach ball in the surf as the waves curled behind them and swimmers splashed and people sunbathed. And… and even though Kerry had sand all over her and her hair was wet and tangled and she'd never loved the bathing suit she'd been wearing, Kerry liked the photo. She was laughing in it and (despite the bathing suit) she thought she looked good. For a person who'd never been very photogenic, it was a triumph.

When they got home and the film was developed they'd looked through the photos, and that one had made Kerry pause. She remembered what he'd said at the end there, about wanting to see her in the sunlight, and for some reason….

It was probably stupid and sentimental and all sorts of other things that she didn't want to encourage in herself but… she wanted him to see it. Luckily her Dad always got double prints so she'd taken one of them. Later that day she snuck out to the house and dropped it in his mailbox, feeling like a spy as she did so, along with a note saying what it was. And it _was_ gone. She knew this for a fact because the next day when she'd lost her nerve again and gone back to collect the photograph it had been.

She'd been unsure as to if she should feel hopeful or nervous when she found that, but in the end it hadn't mattered anyway. If he had gotten it then it didn't seem like he cared. Which might, actually, be for the best. He didn't care; now she just had to work on her own feelings.

She'd only spent three lousy days in his company, and it wasn't even _full_ days – could people honestly fall in love that fast? Fine, judging by the fact that it was a year later and she was still obsessing probably, but…. He probably thought she'd just been a silly little girl with a crush and that she'd gotten over it by now. Hah. She wished. It made no sense, given all that he'd put her through, but she couldn't forget him when she tried. Not that he knew that. As far as he knew she might not have given him a second thought in months. He probably thought that when she'd said she loved him she was only a silly little girl with a crush on him. Or maybe he knew and just didn't care. He'd doubtless seen it all before in his long, long life. Maybe that was the reason he hadn't called, hadn't written, hadn't visited….

Her heart hurt, and Kerry bit her lip to keep from crying as she hugged Corny _hard_.

Her family couldn't understand why she didn't get out more, her dad had asked her more then once if she wanted to talk about it. Like she could talk to them, to _any _of them. But that didn't stop all the conversations.

_"You're an attractive girl, Kerry," her father said, with that half worried, half confused look that he had, one that he usually wore while trying to figure out the cooking instructions for a microwave pizza. "I just can't see why you don't have a boyfriend yet."_

_"__Daaaaaaad__," she'd moaned. "Listen, I don't want one."_

_"Is that really all that it is?"_

_"Yes! Dad, __**please**__ stop trying to psychoanalyze me. __Really.__ You pay someone for that, remember?"_

_"Well…."_

_"__Daaaaaaaaaaaaad__…."_

Not quite true, that, but what was she supposed to have said? 'Yea dad, I'd like a boyfriend but am unfortunate enough to have the boy that I like not only not at all interested in me in _that way_ but also to be a member of the undead'? Nuh-uh. They were STILL making her do the whole psychology thing (given the guilt she must be suffering over killing a man, however much he might deserve it and however much of an accident it might have been) – she wasn't about to come right out and convince them she was nuts now. That would mean more therapy and possibly medication that she didn't need and didn't want and all sorts of other inconveniences. Going to the shrink was bad enough.

Oh, Dr. Thomkins was certainly nice enough but Kerry thought that, for psychology to do much good, you had to be honest. That was something that she had problems with, because if she'd told the entire story then they've had her committed. So she endured the sessions, making up as best she could all of the little things she was supposed to and the guilt she was feeling over killing someone and just wishing that they'd stop making her go. The sessions, and lying to someone who probably cost more then they could really afford, gave Kerry headaches. And it wasn't as if she could really talk about what was bothering her, despite the fact that it _would_ be a relief.

'Oh no, Doctor, I'm not still a social pariah because I'm still feeling guilty about killing someone who was gonna kill me anyway. Nope, it's not because other kids are scared of me for killing him either.

'Nah, see, the real reason I've taken to hiding indoors and being so strange outdoors is that it turns out that vampires are real and they exist with us and that sort of revelation kind of blows your mind, you know? What? Oh no, it's true. My wanna-be boyfriend is one.

'By the way, I've been meaning to tell you – Professor Marsala actually didn't kidnap me, it was this vampire hottie who I thought I saved only I didn't. Oh yea. And then he dragged me around for a few days and I helped him steal a car and hide a corpse and set fire to- wait a second, where are you going with that straightjacket?'

Yea, _that_ would be good.

It was true that Kerry didn't exactly feel guilty about killing Professor Marsala. Sometimes she was worried that she wasn't more worried about that, but he'd been going to kill her and it was an accident anyway and after a few nights waking up screaming and some throwing up early on she'd gotten used to it. Maybe the thing that bothered her most wasn't that she'd killed a man but that she'd killed him in the defense of a creature already dead. One who'd seemed to have forgotten her. And it was hard, knowing that she was a murderess on account of a creature who couldn't be bothered to drop a note saying that he was still alive, let alone come visit. Harder knowing that she loved him. Still loved him, despite all rational protestations. And then, of course, there was the small fact that fiction was no longer simply fiction for her. There were vampires, and they were real. And now every time Kerry saw a news report of someone murdered or someone who had died in gang wars or from drug overdose or anything of the kind, she wasn't sure if she could trust it. It was sort of horrible, but it was the way things were.

'Why haven't I started interacting with people again?' she asked Dr. Thomkins in her head – this was one of the major themes, and she was sick of it. Over and over and over again – sometimes, when bored, she'd imagine scenarios in which she told the truth. They always ended up the same way and there was a limit to how many times that could be funny, but she tried to be creative with it. 'No, I'm over the guilt. It's still sort of strange, but I'm ok with it, you know? I'm more worried about the fact that the people I'm talking to might be vampires and I'd never know. Unless, you know, I threw some Holy Water at them. Only that doesn't work, you know? So I'd have to meet them in the middle of the day and- no, I _don't_ want to try on the nice straightjacket-' Methodically, with an ease that came of practice, she shoved the slightly sick feeling back once again. Then again, there was always the chance that she really _was_ crazy and had invented Michel/Ethan thing _to_ protect her from guilt. Or something. As usual (she'd thought of the idea for the first time a few months ago and, like so many such, it just refused to go away no matter how stupid it was) she shoved it away again. No way. Fine, she might not have physical evidence either way but she couldn't have imagined all that. It was way too real.

Maybe Dr. Thomkins been talking to Dad too about the whole needing-to-go-out-more thing – it would explain why he was suddenly so concerned about the fact that she'd gone on a grand total of two dates, and not with the same boy. One of them, she thought, might have asked her out on a dare – which was a real confidence builder. Yes, fine, she wore a lot of black nowadays. That didn't mean she'd _bite_ someone. Yea, ok, so she was more quiet then she'd been previously and had the infamous honor of having killed someone by shoving him down a flight of stairs and-

Ug. Well, this wasn't helping.

Funny that they should call her the 'Queen of the Dead' though. Ha ha, if only they knew….

Vampires.

The fact that there were real life vampires out and breathing, that We Are Not Alone, hadn't much phased her during the crazy three day sleep deprived, terrified stint she'd spent running around and committing more crimes then she'd ever even dreamed of next to someone who was a vampire himself. She'd since become convinced that she'd been so calm about it then for a few reasons. The main one was that there were more important things to focus on.

Vampires? Cool. It was the vampire hunters (who were still loonies, even if their prey apparently did exist) that she had to worry about. It wasn't the vampires who'd made off with her family. Of course, it probably also didn't help that she was running on almost no sleep and her one ally (kind of) was a vampire himself. It made everything seem almost surreal. By the time she'd come to grips with that, _really_ had, by the time her brain had snapped out of the mildly hyperaware, focused state it had gone into at how close she was to dying, she'd already started to fall. And then he seemed almost normal – it was a dizzy, dreamlike few days. He was her only company; he was normal. Funny how different everything seemed when you had more contact with the outside world then a newspaper and a few people you said hello to over breakfast.

Later, after everything was done and over and they were staying in a small room in the Comfort Inn that the police had procured them while their house was still being picked through – and, after that, repaired – it had hit her. She hadn't stopped shaking for two days. It was hard, after all, finding out that the things you'd grown up being taught were true weren't true after all, that the universe was a darker and scarier place then you'd been led to believe. The questionings hadn't helped matters. How shaken she really had been feeling had helped with it, at least, so _something_ came out of it. Something.

It had scared her, in a way, how easy it had been to lie. Kerry had never been good at lying – it just didn't come naturally – but her time with the vampire seemed to have awakened acting skills that she'd never known she had. She'd told the story he'd given her to tell; told it not just faithfully but _well_. She'd glided through the lies like a snake, filling in details and acting in a manner that, in her opinion, she should get an Oscar for. It had been so _easy_ though, frighteningly easy, as her voice trembled and broke when she told them how _scared_ she'd been. When she told them she heard strange sounds and loud music and something like a scream, only she couldn't tell because of the music. When she'd told them how he'd grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out to the living room, of the smoking blood covering walls and floor and the burned rug. She'd told them how Gilbert Marsala had said she was a vampire, how he'd told her the devil had whispered it to him in the night, how he had to burn out all the vampire blood to cleanse the earth-

And then the questions would start. "What else did you see?" they would ask – they'd asked about the gun, about the vampire case. She'd told them she didn't know what the case was but that he'd said he was going to cut her head off so that she couldn't come back, that the gun wasn't for that, the gun was just to make sure that she couldn't run- It had been when he'd started raising it that she'd screamed and pushed and run for the stairs.

Michel had calculated correctly, of course – the police believed her story. She'd rehearsed it enough in her head that she didn't slip up during questioning, and as for the rest… well, he was a good liar. He knew the lies people would believe. He knew how to mix fact with fiction – the real with the unreal – just enough to deceive nearly perfectly. Kerry didn't have his acting skills, but she could tell this lie.

Kerry hadn't seen the house again, but she had seen a few photos and had been impressed with them. Michel had been through, of course – he always was. He'd spattered the walls and floor with his blood and scorched it with sunlight, scattered some more cloves of garlic in a way suggestive of movement and what kind, wiped the prints off of everything that had them. Regina's car keys had been found, of course – Professor Marsala was now the suspected arsonist in that case as well. Given what he'd done to his own home, after all, and that he'd talked of 'burning' the vampire blood out he'd apparently had an affinity with fire…. Regina still hadn't turned up (of course she hadn't) so there were now two murders that the police had connected to his name.

The whole affair made Kerry feel somewhat sick.

Ironically, perhaps, the biggest mystery remaining was what had happened to the bodies of Ethan Bryne and Regina Jacobson. No one could find them – or would find them, if Kerry guessed right. One, after all, was still 'alive' and the other was only just recognizable as anything human. It had looked ancient; on the off chance that the police or detectives or… well, anyone ever managed to find Regina's body they might well think it was one of the peat bog mummies, or whatever they were called. She doubted they'd be able to identify it. If nothing else, there was the fact that Regina had been a vampire; she'd have been careful about DNA and dental records and Kerry couldn't honestly think of another way that they'd be able to find out who she was. So it would remain a mystery. Forever. Great, one more thing to weigh down on her conscience.

Kerry closed her eyes for a moment and twisted her mouth in an unhappy way. _It doesn't matter._ But it did. The conversation she'd had with Michel when they found her came floating back to the front of her mind – funny how well she remembered it.

_"She's been dead for a long time, and I doubt very much that any living soul is sorry."_

_How horrible would that be?_ To know that if you died no one would really care about you and the fact you were gone – quite the opposite, that any who knew of you (really knew) would rejoice at your downfall….

_Right,_ she thought, _enough with all the macabre thoughts. __TV.__ Let us go see what is on TV._ She pulled herself up and shuffled off for the living room, leaving Corny sitting on the comforter and staring forlornly after her.

Kerry curled up on the overstuffed couch and started flipping through channels. Nothing… nothing… nothing… noth- wait. She flipped back the channel. All right! _Buffy_ was on! The girl settled further down with a contented sigh and decided that she wasn't going to move until her brain started oozing out her ears. This seemed like a good plan to her – no brain, no annoying vampire living in her brain and not letting her do ANYTHING without being reminded. No guilt. No worries, see? Loose the brain and the problems were gone.

The doorbell rang.

_Oh no._

There was a long pause, then it rang again.

_No, crap, can't someone __**else**__ get that?_ As though answering her question she heard little feet almost falling over themselves tripping down the stairs. "I got it!" cried Ian triumphantly in his squeaky little voice. Adorable. Convenient too – he was, for reasons unknown, currently going through a doorbell answering phase.

Whatever, Kerry wasn't complaining. Now she didn't have to get up, and she could get back to liquefying her brain.

There was the sound of the door opening and of voices which Kerry covered by turning the volume up a little. It was probably just one of dad's friends again – _not that weird lady, please_ – and so none of her concern.

"Kerry! It's for you!"

It seemed to take a few seconds for the words to travel from her ears to her brain. _Wait, what?_

"Kerrrrrrry!!"

"Yea, yea, I'm coming!" She slid off the couch, torn between curiosity as to who this visitor could be and annoyance that she was being dragged away from Buffy and friends; a state that lasted until she got to the entrance hall. As soon as she got there, however, all of her thoughts seemed to band together with her body heat and suddenly migrate somewhere tropical – Tahiti, maybe – leaving her frozen as surely as if her blood had been turned to ice, staring at her younger brother and her visitor.

Cobalt blue, impossibly blue, eyes looked up and caught hers in the same old hypnotic spell that she'd been so used to over the three, crazy, terrifying days last year. Michel. Not Ethan anymore. She'd automatically called him Ethan for the first few months and had always carefully corrected herself – he'd given her his name, the least she could do was use it, even if it was only in thought. He was Michel. Michel Michel Michel Michel. Michel-who-had-been-Ethan. She'd thought she'd mastered calling him by his name, his real (or she thought was real) name, but now that he was there….

Michel. MichelMichelMichelnotEthanMichel-

"What, no hello?" the vampire asked with an almost sardonic air, smirking slightly in what seemed satisfaction at so obviously catching her off guard.

Kerry simply stared, two different names weaving through her thoughts.

- - -

:O

Review plz?


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Something seemed to have happened to her ears (or maybe it wasn't her ears, maybe it was her mind – the two names were still dancing through her thoughts and seemed to be taking up far more then their fair share of them) as it took a moment for her to process what he'd just said. Then, once she'd finally managed to comprehend what he was saying the same ailment seemed to move down to her tongue and take over – which made things… ah, difficult.

"Who are you?" Ian asked from somewhere that Kerry currently wasn't aware of, sounding so perfectly innocent.

"Daniel," Michel-Ethan replied, still looking at Kerry for a long moment before turning away and grinning at her brother. "I'm Daniel Keeshond. Weird last name, huh?" He winked. Ian giggled. Kerry attempted to kick her brain back into life.

"Uhhh…." So maybe the plan had failed.

He looked exactly the same, which was distracting, exactly the same except for the hair (which was shorter and styled differently) and his clothes. She felt stupid as soon as she'd thought that – duh he was the same, how could he change? – but think it she did. His eyes were so blue. _So _blue. She'd forgotten. It was distracting her, muddling her thoughts. Or was that him? She already knew he could make her fall asleep. Or make her want to fall asleep. Or something. And somehow he didn't seem quite as pale as he'd been. Was that the result of the sunlight? Had those few brief rays given him a tan this lingering? It was impossible, of course, but then so were vampires. Point.

"Wondering what I'm doing here?" he finally asked with that almost-smirk again, an expression that looked like a normal friendly smile to everyone else. She snapped out of her study of his face suddenly, glancing up.

Kerry swallowed and finally made herself speak. "Uh… yes?" The answer sounded so hesitant, so questioning.

"What, did you forget already?" he asked, laughing a little and sounding exasperated. The way Ethan (Michel) lied was so perfect that it was fascinating, mesmerizing in a way that had nothing to do with the actual story being told. Not to say that what he was saying didn't have little interesting bits of its own, but if you knew he was lying and you still couldn't tell…. "You said you'd come over so that we could work on the science thing, remember?"

"Oh yea," Kerry heard herself saying as though at a great distance. "Sorry, that totally slipped my mind. Let me go get my book." And then she found herself turning around and marching up the stairs to her room to grab her biology book without knowing what was going on. She climbed more slowly then she normally did, trying to figure out what on _earth_ was happening. But there was nothing for it, she couldn't come up with anything. She couldn't think of any reason at all that he'd have suddenly decided to show up at her house tonight, yet here he was asking about a fictitious science project….

And what was _up_ with that, huh? He stayed away for over a _year;_ more then a whole year without so much as a post-it note left with a message and now he was at her _house_?? And what was this about going over to his place? Or… or having been supposed to go over to his place? She wouldn't be able to. Her dad would never buy that. She was seventeen, he wouldn't want her going over to boy's houses at eight o'clock at night.

Right? He wasn't that desperate on her behalf (socially concerned), _right??_ No. Couldn't be. Yea.

Kerry tried to reassure herself and didn't end up feeling very reassured. When had life gotten so complicated?

For that matter, what was this science project she was supposed to be working on? Michel didn't know what kind of science she was taking (_right??_) so what if he didn't have a story? She'd have to come up with one. What was a project she could use…? Never mind that, what were they _studying?_ Kerry had _never_ liked science, and that trait exhibited itself in a lot of daydreaming.

Cells? Maybe? Hopefully Michel (and it was easier to think of him as Michel again, now that he wasn't actually right _there_ standing right in _front_ of her looking all Ethany) knew more about Biology then she did, that was all. She was hopeless and everyone in her family knew it. Then again, he probably would be. Was there anything that he _couldn't_ do? Honestly now.

A cell project. Yea. That sounded good if he wasn't prepared with a story.

She paused and thought about that. Michel. Not prepared. Ha ha. Whoa, she needed sleep.

Kerry grabbed her Bio book from off her desk and then almost managed to trip on her way back down the stairs. She luckily managed to save herself, however, and got down without the ignominy of falling flat on her face – which would be painful too, actually. Yes, she thought of that _second._ Still, once back down she was briefly puzzled as Michel (Ethan) wasn't in the entry where she'd left him. Luckily he hadn't moved far, only over to the living room, where she found him watching the program she'd left on. Kerry felt herself start to blush. He was watching the television with a quizzical air, seeming to be examining it. He glanced up from Buffy and Angel and cocked an eyebrow when she halted in the doorway.

"_Buffy the Vampire Slayer, _Kerry?" Ethan (Michel) asked, and she felt her heart flutter a little. How embarrassing – doubtless he'd heard that. He looked over at her and then his gaze wandered back to the television screen, expression twisted a little in distaste. "It's so… so _wrong, _on so many points. I'm hurt. I really am."

And suddenly, Kerry had the impulse to break out in hysterical laugher. Well, either that or possibly just sit down, crank up the volume and tune him out. This was just too much. Way too much. It was confusing and over her head and she just… ug.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, hearing the note of hysteria in her voice. Ethan-Michel looked reassuring – but of course he did, his expressions changed to suit his convenience, not his mood. It would have been interesting to see how he answered, at least, even if it probably wouldn't have been the truth. But Kerry never got the chance to find out how he would have responded, since suddenly his eyes flicked over her shoulder – a movement that seemed unconscious, reactionary – and then Kerry realized that there was someone coming in the door to her back.

Ethan's expression cleared into one that inspired confidence.

"Hey kids, I'm… home…" Kerry heard her dad call, voice trailing off as he noticed the extra figure. "Oh. We have company? Kerry, why didn't you say anything?"

"Sorry, dad," Kerry said – once again her emotions were in turmoil and it was a wash between defending or condemning the vampire. "I didn't know myself."

"Oh?" Her father's tone became a bit defensive. "I see."

"Sorry, sir," he cut in, voice smooth and bright with a tone that suggested butter would not melt in his mouth. "See, we're lab partners and we're supposed to be doing a model strand of DNA together – Kerry was going to come over and work on it with me since I already have all the supplies. I guess she forgot though."

"Oh," her dad said again, expression clearing a bit now that everything had been explained to satisfaction. Kind of. "Well, that's all right then. I don't believe I've met you before though…?"

"Daniel," the vampire lied smoothly. "It's Daniel. And yea, I've been absent for a little while. I got sick. It's why we're behind, which is why we need to work on it."

"Oh. You need any help with the… DNA strand?" He meant well, he really did, and Kerry wanted to go up to her dad and give him a big hug for saying that. Mr. Nowicki was about as good at science as his daughter, which just made it… well, _sweet._ Impractical, but sweet nonetheless.

"No, don't worry about it," Ethan/Michel laughed. "We'll be fine."

"Oh. Well, if you're sure…."

"Yea. Kerry, _can_ you work on it tonight? If it's all right with you, sir, of course. It is getting a little bit late."

"No, that's fine. It's due soon, remember?" Kerry gave him a mildly evil eye as she said this – what _was_ he talking about? There was no science project so this whole story was presumably to talk to her. Or… or she wasn't sure, but couldn't think of any other reason to invent something like this. Kiss her, maybe (she blushed at the thought) but if he liked her _that_ way he wouldn't have waited a year before trying it again. So she just needed to stop thinking about it. Ug, if only it were that easy. Hopefully _not_ kill her – though he certainly hadn't shown any inclinations in that direction, so she was safe. Right? Right.

… right?

But the fact remained that she doubted he'd just showed up to pay a social call. He _might_ have, of course, but it seemed like it would be strange to have it just be that. So _why_ was he suggesting coming back later? She didn't know if he WOULD come back later.

"Yea, I guess that's true."

"Of course – but can't you work on something here?"

"Sorry Mr. Nowicki, but all the stuff is over at my house. I can't think of much that we could do here. Can you?" Kerry shook her head. "I really should have brought it, I guess, but I suppose I wasn't thinking."

"Oh. Well… don't stay out too late, ok?"

"Yea, sure dad." And then she had to turn away and almost run down the hall, clutching her science book like a shield and grabbing her coat off the hook because she couldn't stand to see him standing there, looking somewhat confused and forlorn and clutching a half-gallon of milk and a plastic bag with an eggplant sticking out the top. He had no right to – this was what he'd wanted, right?

Yes. Yes, of course.

Still, Kerry couldn't help thinking of the last time she'd come here in the company of the vampire she was leaving with, and the memory created a pit of foreboding in the hollow of her chest, roiling uncomfortably. Not that she needed to worry, because nothing would happen. But… still. It was a sick feeling.

She paused in the doorway, looking with some surprise at a car she'd never seen before. Not, of course, that it would have been surprising if she'd stopped to think about it before just running out the door – of course he'd have a different car. It had been a year, after all, and from what she'd seen back then Ethan (_Michel_) changed vehicles more often then most people changed their underwear. This latest model was old and faded blue and beat-up looking; very much the stereotypical kid's first car. There was rust on the bumper and hand roll windows and one of the old locking systems. Kerry glanced back over her shoulder, and Michel met her eyes and cocked a single ironic eyebrow. "Coming?"

Kerry shook off the strangeness. "Yea, sure." She walked over to the passenger side then climbed in the door and fastened her seatbelt. The vampire climbed in opposite her and turned the key. And then, as the car stuttered to life, Kerry tried to make sense of things.

They sat in silence for a moment as he drove.

"I must say," he finally commented, flicking on the signal and turning, "I didn't expect you to hold out this long. I thought I'd be deluged with questions."

"… I can't think of what to ask."

"Well, how about we start with the basics. How have you been?" Kerry made a face and didn't answer. "Oh? That good?" Still no reply. "I'm fine, by the way, thanks for asking. Recovered from that burn after a few months." And then Kerry flinched as her memory pulled back how he'd looked – skin red and raw and angry, blisters and welts and shiny tight skin peeling away _everywhere_ but on his arms and his hands the very worst because they hadn't had even the vague protection that the rest of him had. And then Regina, as Regina had last looked – shriveled and blackened, flesh tight on bones in the worst possible way. It had looked more like she'd been dried then burned, actually. Or perhaps a combination, but she certainly hadn't been about to fall to ash. What had happened to her had almost happened to him.

"I wish you'd told me earlier," Kerry said softly, looking at the toes of her shoes. Ethan – Michel – snorted. "When, in front of your father? 'Oh, and I recovered from my near death experience last year; how are you?' Besides, I didn't think that I'd need to. Don't I _look_ better?"

"That's not what I meant," she said, frustrated. "I mean you left me wondering what had happened for _thirteen months_ and-"

"And here I am," he said, cutting her off smoothly. "Why bother so much about the past? It's over and done, after all."

Kerry suddenly wanted to hit him, or maybe something else – the glass of his car window. Either, however, would doubtless end up hurting her more then him _or_ the car. Kerry settled for setting her hand on the dashboard and then putting her head on her hand. "Jeez, Michel – I'd still have liked to have _heard_ from you. I'm not even asking for much! I mean, an email, a letter, a phone call. A sheet of Unchained Melody left where I could find it. Couldn't you have at least told me how you were? Or what you were, after you couldn't be Ethan anymore?"

"That?" He asked, sounding torn between being surprised and scornful. "What, is it not obvious from the car? I'm a student. Broke, of course. Mind you, it's a step up from the bike."

"Like you cared."

"True."

Kerry glared at him. "Forget about the bike. How was I to know _anything_ before you finally decided to grace me with your presence? I mean, I didn't know you were a student – High School or College or whatever. For all I knew you were Calvin Cline's latest underwear model. You could have had a poster up in Times Square and I would have been none the wiser."

He looked over and smirked at her, and Kerry froze again for a moment. "No, you're kidding."

"I didn't say anything."

"Seriously, you're kidding. Aren't you? You are _not_ an underwear model. Please tell me you aren't."

The vampire finally laughed. "Of course not – people would expect to see me in the sun far too often for that job. That could get uncomfortable." And the Understatement of the Year Award goes to…. "You know, what with the painful, excruciating death that would result from it."

"Yea," Kerry almost sighed – the word little more then a breath of air. The image her memory had given her was still fresh in her head. Silence filled the car as they drove on, and Kerry suddenly wanted to break it. It wasn't companionable silence after all, it was far too uncomfortable for that. Suddenly she felt like he was a stranger again – but he always had been, of course. Perhaps it was only right that the Silence of Strangers stretched to infinity between them. "I'm glad you're all right. By the way." Well, that sounded awkward. Another long pause. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing, really. Only the usual things." Not that Kerry really knew what that entailed, other then cutting his hair every day and staying relatively unnoticed. There was another long pause in which Kerry stared out the window – a few flakes of snow were beginning to fall. Finally she sighed again and turned back.

"Listen, are you going to tell me what all this is really about?"

Ethan/Michel looked over and cocked an eyebrow. "And who says that I didn't just pick you up to enjoy the pleasure of your company?"

"Jeez, Michel, if you enjoyed my company _that_ much I don't think you would have waited this long before doing anything, let _alone_ coming to visit. Why couldn't you have left a _note_, at least?"

"How you harp on that. Never mind. Like you did, you mean?"

"Yea, like- you did get those, then?"

He snorted derisively. "Why did you think they were disappearing?"

"I don't know! _If_ you'll recall I still don't have any idea what I'm doing out here in the middle of the night driving off to somewhere I've never been and don't know the location of!"

"Come, it's hardly the middle of the night."

"Stop it!"

The vampire was the one who sighed now as he looked back over. His expression was somewhat softer – Kerry wondered if it was honest, or if he was lying again. He was so good at lying. "Be patient, Kerry."

"Fine. But tell me."

"Of course."

Silence for another block or so, then he spoke again. "How are the piano lessons coming, by the way?"

"Oh," Kerry said, "ok I guess – I mean, I'm hardly as good as yo- wait a sec." A step fell. "I didn't write about those. I know I didn't. How did you know I was taking piano again?"

Nothing.

"What, have you been _stalking_ me or something?"

He sighed. "Stalking is such a negative word. I've been keeping an eye on you."

Kerry didn't even bother listening, caught in a swell of indignation. "My gosh! So you've been following me around_ all this _time and you couldn't even bother stopping to say hello? What is wrong with you?"

"Kerry-"

"No! No, let me out, I'm going home!" They were at a stoplight and so if she leapt from the car at least it wouldn't cause too much damage. Kerry started fumbling with her seatbelt, feelings of rage and sorrow and rejection mingling in unpleasant ways in the pit of her stomach. Rage was the easiest, as it was a bit harder to cry when you were furious. Rage, therefore, was the one that she focused on. "Why did you even bother showing up at all? I mean, because obviously I'm not-" Not that it was working, of course, her eyes felt dangerously moist-

Her voice cut off abruptly as a pale hand, perfect and beautiful and absolutely impossibly strong, came from the side and pulled hers away from her seatbelt buckle.

Kerry looked at the blue, blue eyes set in an almost expressionless face as in front of them the light turned green and felt the rage and sorrow die down as something else bubbled up again. Fear. His features were blank and soft as they'd gotten a few times in the past. Once (the incident clawing its way to the front of her mind and persuaded her heart to relocate to somewhere in her throat) was when he'd almost killed her – that first time when she realized what he was. His voice, she knew, would be soft as velvet, soft as cashmere, when he spoke. She was right.

"Have you changed your mind about dying, then?"

- - -

Once again – NEED BETA. A beta'r could bug me more easily to write and/or update. Now wouldn't you like more updates? ;) Drop a review if you can. PLEASE. Or... a review if you can't. Or... just review, ok?


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

The vampire let go of the seatbelt and put both hands on the wheel again, smoothly pulling out from the intersection, his expression perfectly normal; his voice soft and bland. Kerry tried to force herself to continue breathing. How could he sound so calm after… _had_ he just said he'd kill her if she left? Was that really it?

He was speaking again and Kerry forced herself to listen and tried to focus through the adrenaline and fear. "If you have, or if you've decided you'd like to be changed, then I suppose I'm wasting my time. Go on and run home – or I could change you if you like – and your family will have to deal with the fact of your death."

"Michel-" Her throat was so tight that she could barely force that one word out. More difficult still because the other name was rising in her throat.

"If, however," he continued as though she hadn't spoken, "you'd like to remain breathing and human for the time being, I'd suggest you stop trying to cause trouble and listen." Michel paused, apparently so that she could make her decision, and when she didn't start fumbling with her seatbelt again he nodded and sighed a little then opened his mouth once again to speak. And what he said left Kerry gaping.

"Do you trust me?"

"Wha- _what_? Why should I? Given, I mean, that you basically just said you'd kill me if I tried getting out of the car-"

He cut her off. "No I didn't, now answer the question please."

Kerry bit her lip and gathered her courage for a moment before speaking. "Not really. I mean, all that you ever do is lie."

Michel laughed a little, softly. "Fair enough, I suppose. Do you at least believe that I won't kill you?"

"Not really."

Michel sighed again. "You make things difficult."

Kerry bit her lip and stared out the window, not seeing a thing. "Would you please at least tell me why you came to see me?" she finally said, softly, still not looking at him.

"They know about you."

Kerry turned around to stare at him again and blinked, face twisted in confusion. "You lost me."

He made a small dismissive noise. "The other vampires. They know about you."

"… ok," Kerry said after a pause, "and why does this matter?"

"It _matters,_" said he with exaggerated patience, "because you also know about _us_."

Kerry, who still didn't understand the significance, sat quietly for a few moments as she tried to add two and two together and kept on coming up with five. Michel turned off the road into the parking lot for a small apartment complex then pulled smoothly into a space marked 124, in faded yellow paint, got out and came around to open Kerry's door.

"Why would the other vam-"

He hissed at her, softly, and she shut up. "That is _why_," he said softly, tone almost dangerous. "Now kindly be quiet, at least for the moment." He took her hand and tugged her up from her seat too quickly then up the concrete stairs (which were mercifully free of ice and almost clear of snow). Kerry still almost tripped, once, but he caught her before she could really fall, then pulled her up the last few steps and then to a door – 124, just like the parking space. He pulled a key from his pocket. Unlocking the door, he stepped through it and then turned, holding it open for Kerry. She followed, curious and confused and beginning to be truly worried. She waited until he closed the door and then turned to him, wondering what was going on, what she should expect, what he was going to do.

He tossed the keys on the counter. "Would you like something to drink, Kerry?"

"What?"

"The least I can do is be a good host," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

"No. Listen, will you just tell me what you were talking about?"

He looked over at her, eyebrow raised, and Kerry suddenly felt very stupid. "You haven't figured it out? Very well then, if you need it spoken plainly…. Several others of my kind-"

"-vampires," Kerry said, trying to orient herself. Michel smiled a little, but his eyes were dark. He seemed torn, half amused and half anxious. Or was it some other emotion that was shadowing his eyes? Almost anger, though she couldn't really tell.

"Yes, vampires now don't interrupt –they've heard about our little adventure last year. Not everyone has heard of it, of course, but such stories to tend to travel. The death of a hunter is always news that we watch, whether their status as such was known when they were alive or not. Keeping track of who is hunting us – or even was hunting us - can give us an edge when we need it. I'm not quite sure how your name got involved in the telling. I thought I'd kept you well clear. But someone apparently either put two and two together or they had more sources in more places then I would have guessed. In any case, they know that you know about vampires."

"Yeah, but that's what I don't get – why should that be an issue?"

"Kerry," Michel sighed, and whatever-it-was in his eyes seemed to dissipate, "we have lived through the centuries because most people don't believe in us. The few who do are always the ones causing problems – most of the time they become hunters. They're hardly infallible – you saw that – but they still cause more damage than we want. And we're cautious, when it comes to staying alive."

"They don't honestly think that I'm going to become a vampire hunter, do they?" Kerry felt faintly disgusted at the stupidity of anyone who would believe such an idea.

"A few of them," Michel admitted. "Some are more convinced that you'll turn hunter's informant, telling them what you know, and some are just think you'll accidentally let too much slip to the wrong person in an unguarded moment."

"But that's crazy!" she finally almost exploded. "Honestly, if I haven't said anything in the year since I met you then why on earth would they even think that I would now?"

"Because," he said, sitting down on a chair that looked comfortable, if slightly worn, and crossing his legs, "a healthy dose of paranoia is quite helpful when it comes to surviving for any length of time. Most vampires who know want you either killed or… converted, as it were."

Kerry sagged back against the nearby wall and just _stared_ at him. She seemed to be going into a mild state of shock, which might be just as well. When she spoke her voice was still terribly squeaky. "Are you saying," she asked in a voice that sounded tiny, despite the fact that she'd thought she was speaking more or less at normal volume, "that the rest of the vampires out there either want to change me or kill me?"

"Oh, not all of them," Michel said. "Just most." And, at that, Kerry wanted to strangle him.

"Michel!"

"Would you prefer I lie?" he asked, an ironic glint in his eye. "I certainly can – I thought you'd prefer the truth over feeling comfortable, but if you wish otherwise then just say as much."

"When else do you do anything _but_ lie?" Kerry asked, feeling lightheaded in the worst possible way. "Please tell me you are now. Please."

"Ah, but _that_ would be a lie itself." Kerry moaned softly. "Which is why, of course, I asked if you'd changed your mind about dying. If you have then I'm wasting my time. Sooner or later – though probably sooner, as you are perceived as a potential threat at the moment – a vampire will find you. They will kill you – probably drain you of blood or snap your neck, nothing fancy – and possibly offer you the choice. I can't _vouch_ for that happening, of course, but the fact that you coped very well (considering that you're human) last year has left its impression. They will probably give you the chance to join the ranks. But if your feelings haven't changed, and you would still rather die than join us, it's a moot point."

Kerry bit her lip again, wondering _how_ this had happened to her. "If you'd like to become a vampire, I could change you now," he said, voice so soft that it almost felt as though he wasn't speaking, as though these words were simply her thoughts. "That way there wouldn't be a problem with the possibility of the vampire who found you _not_ offering the choice. It would be easy enough to explain your disappearance – you eloped with Daniel perhaps, or were killed in an auto accident. It would be so easy, in the snow and the ice. I would suggest the second, as it would save anyone attempting to search, but if you're uncomfortable with the idea…."

Kerry tried to breathe. What, she was supposed to decide _now_? Now? Well she already had, of course she had, but… but somehow things didn't seem quite as clear cut as they had just a year ago. It had been simple, cookie-cutter shapes back then – black and white, night and day. No, she didn't want to be a vampire because no, she didn't want to live that life and no, she didn't want to kill people, no it wasn't right, yes she was a good person. But now….

Maybe it was all the time she'd spent thinking about vampires, in general, and _this_ vampire, in particular, since she'd last seen him, maybe it was the way that her own human life seemed to be going nowhere suddenly. Either way, this new lifestyle suddenly seemed almost unbearably seductive. _So_ appealing. But… but she was supposed to choose now? Choose if she wanted eternity? _An eternity of killing,_ one side of her argued. The other side didn't need words – one of its major arguments was sitting only a few feet away. It was difficult to concentrate on much else, actually.

The choice should be so obvious – had been obvious, or at least relatively so, in the past – but somehow it just _wasn't._ Really wasn't. The thought of haunting the night forever, living off blood- eternity. Eternity was a lot. Did she really want to live forever? Unless, of course, someone killed her. Oh. Right. People would be trying to kill her.

_People are trying to kill you __**now**_ some small, reasonable-sounding voice pointed out in the back of her head. _People with supernatural powers and nice, sharp fangs and who are stronger than you could ever dream to be (unless, of course, you become one of them) and who can do all sorts of things that you don't even KNOW about yet. Dad and Ian could get hurt – do you really want them to get caught up in it?_ And then the other side of her argued that maybe she'd be able to get away with it, that maybe they could move to Fiji or someplace else with lots and lots of sun and change their name.

_Dad and Ian would never go for it._

_Well, I could tell them._

_Like they'd believe you?_

_I'd convince them somehow! I'd tell them I'd gotten in trouble some other way!_

_Right,_ the voice sneered. _Good little clean-cut Kerry – Ms. Goody Two-Shoes herself – gets in enough trouble to have to move out of the country._

_Shut up!_ Kerry thought at the annoying little voice. And then a third party in her head decided to chime in.

_Hmm, talking to yourself. Not a good sign, Kerry._

A pause while she considered this, then decided that if she really was going crazy it probably wouldn't make enough difference for most people to tell. She was, after all, the girl who wanted a vampire to be her boyfriend. Most people didn't even think vampires _existed_.

Which brought her back the original argument – that she could put her family in danger. Again. And that wouldn't really make much difference in the end; they'd kill her all the same. Her throat felt tight. Maybe it would just be better – easier, certainly – to just get it over with? Maybe she should just let Ethan- Michel- ugh, she couldn't even get his stupid _name_ right-

Oh gosh. That was another thing. She wouldn't be able to keep her _name_ if she changed. Or hair. Or place that she lived, even generally speaking and she'd only ever _lived_ in this area, or even _identity_ and- Or… well, she would be able to keep it, she just wouldn't be able to use it for a while. A long while. An until-her-family-was-dead type while. What would she call herself?

_Amber,_ she thought (it fit, her eyes were almost golden) and then was horrified that she'd thought that. Her family, for one, her poor family-

_You're putting them in more danger as things are,_ that treacherous little voice in the back of her head reminded her in a tone quite bland and reasonable.

_Shut up!_ She told it fiercely, once again. _They'll be fine, the vampires don't want to draw more attention than they have to-_

_Unless they notice. Unless they find something out._

There was another small matter of killing people; Kerry could barely stand to kill bugs. How could she kill another person? But she would have to, vampires needed to kill simply to _survive_, and not just for a meal. How could she do that? How could she say yes? Worse, perhaps, was the fact that she'd want to kill. It would become a hunt, rather then just survival. Could she even survive like that?

Then she thought of Michel, of what the past year had been, and wondered how she could say no. Oh, sure, psychologists and families could talk of overcoming-depression and plenty-of-fish-in-the-sea and all of that all they liked, but there was the simple fact that Michel had been haunting her thoughts for the past year, driving her almost to distraction. How could she say no when saying yes meant an eternity under the moon with him?

The moon – oh yes, she would never see the sun again; she'd forgotten about that. The sun, how could she say goodbye to the sun? But if she said yes that that's what she'd be doing – she'd never see another sunrise, never bask lazily in the heat of a golden summer day, never feel the gentle beams brush against her face and warm her bones. If she ever _were_ caught by a few rays- The memory of hoarse screams floated up to the front of her mind, almost making her flinch. '_It's not all bad,'_ she thought, feeling queasy and so trying to distract herself with bad jokes. '_I wouldn't have to worry about skin cancer, that's for sure.'_ It didn't work anyway, the screams were still raw in her head.

Fine, no sun. She could live with no sun, right? But to choose a man whose symbol was the moon…. Then again, at this point it seemed like there was very little _choosing_ about it. Given a choice, she wouldn't have chosen this. Gosh, what a stupid way for the world to work – falling in love made things so inconvenient in cases such as these.

She could _feel_ his cobalt blue eyes, so casually piercing, boring holes into her, and that further stirred the insane whirlwind – hurricane – that her thoughts had been tossed into.

"I- I-" she finally managed to stammer, and at the small noise he stood in a motion as soft as a whisper. Gently he reached out and brushed her neck with a few fingers. The sensation seemed to roll down her spine and spread throughout her body, leaving senses tingling.

"It wouldn't hurt," he said softly. "It would be over in a second."

Yes. No. _Yes. __**No.**_

Ugh, what was _wrong_ with her? _Love,_ she told herself, somewhat giddily. _Love is what's wrong with me – stupid, probably unrequited love, but love nonetheless._ Why had she fallen in love with him anyway? It made no sense. Stupid vampire – all he ever did was confuse everything.

He finally began lowering his head, very softly, towards her neck – thankfully, that motion finally seemed to jumpstart her brain again. She leapt back instinctively; or as much as she could leap back. Admittedly, it wasn't much. She almost ended up both tripping and running into a wall, a feat of note. No matter. That motion had seemed to make up her mind – the instinctive shying away from a predator. She was still Kerry, still a little human girl trapped in a world of monsters – but the point there was that she was _human._ "I think," she said, swallowing and shaking and honestly afraid that he might bite her anyway, half wishing that he would just so that she could find out if it felt like her dreams, if nothing else, "that my answer is the same." Her voice seemed to catch and tear on words that were sharp as razors, leaving it ragged. The sentence felt like it cut her mouth and pierced her tongue on the way out. It didn't help, of course, that he was still so close to her – his proximity seemed to rage through her already disordered thoughts, scattering them further. He was almost pressing her against the wall in a gesture so reminiscent of that first time she'd realized what he was that it made her heart ache. Which was probably another sign that she was nuts – honestly, who gets all sentimental like that when they remember that time when someone had almost killed you?

Michel sighed, mouth twisting. "I was afraid you'd say that," he said, tone somewhat annoyed. His eyes were sharp, almost glowing with a light that frightened her for a few moments before she followed the direction of his gaze and realized that he wasn't staring at her, but the wall at her back. After a few seconds he seemed to realize this and twisted away to pace back across the room.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a cup of tea?" The tone was oddly biting for the question, and Kerry had to stifle a small giggle that was mostly rising hysteria.

"No, I don't like tea."

"Coco, then? Coffee?"

"It's too late for real coffee and decaf is gross, if you even have it, but I guess some coco would be nice," she said and waited as he poured some milk into a saucepan and set it on the stove to warm. She managed to control the hysteria for a few minutes as he worked, but as the milk got warm and the scent of it filled the small space it finally got away from her. Kerry started laughing and then started crying and continued on doing both at once, stomach and side and eyes hurting as she curled up in a little ball on the floor. After a few moments of this, she heard movement then Michel was sitting next to her on the floor and stroking her hair gently; a motion so familiar and yet so unfamiliar and so gentle that it almost sent her into a fresh wave of tears. It was just that all of their time together was flashing behind her eyes and he'd never been so kind or so open or so trusting except right there at the very end. When he'd been Michel, not Ethan. And that seemed to solidify it for her, almost as though it were two different people that she was thinking of. He was Michel. Ethan died for a second time as Michel stroked her hair.

She could still taste his kiss. The memory made her reach up and cover her mouth with the back of her hand, as though trying to press herself back into reality.

Somehow it seemed to work – in any case she managed to stop crying and stop laughing and felt slightly better for it. He pulled her upright again and pressed a mug of coco into her hands. She looked at it blankly for a moment before finally managing to get it to her mouth, where she almost burned her tongue. It was still too hot – funny, she didn't really seem to care.

"It's all right," he said softly – and she supposed she'd have to trust him there. Even if it wasn't she wanted to believe the words. Needed to, if she was going to keep on going in this world of madness.

"So what am I going to do?" she sniffled. Michel produced a tissue, seemingly from nowhere, and Kerry used it to blow her nose rather nosily. _Why was it,_ she wondered miserably, _that whenever you really cry your eyes get all puffy and red and the snot faucet gets turned on some place in your head? It always looks so glamorous and pitiful and perfect in the movies._ Kerry wiped her nose and then rubbed her sleeve over her blotched cheeks to get rid of the tear tracks. She was glad that Michel had at least had the foresight to take her away from her home – she hated to think what her father would have thought had he seen her then.

"That depends," Michel said softly. "I assume that you still don't want to die."

"No," she said, still sounding somewhat stuffy, "of course not." She blew on the top of her coco and then took another sip. It had cooled down a little bit. She looked up at him and caught his eyes as he glanced towards her as well – instantly she looked away, feeling so plain and… and so very _human._ It wasn't fair that he was so beautiful. Because he was, really, you couldn't just call him handsome. Besides, handsome seemed the wrong word. Especially for those eyes. It was so unfair that he should look like that and she would be all blotchy and swollen with red eyes and a stuffy nose. Kerry took another sip of her coco.

"You realize, of course, that they are going to try to kill you."

"Yes," Kerry said, still feeling faintly miserable.

"… and?"

Kerry glanced up. "And what?"

"Well, what are you planning to do?"

Kerry laughed a little, weakly. "I don't know, Michel. I don't suppose that you have any ideas? Like… I don't know…." She trailed off, not even knowing what she was saying. She'd only said anything because he knew vampires, knew their strengths and weaknesses, far better than she ever could. Besides, he was here. Wasn't that something?

"I take it that no plan suddenly sprang to mind, mm?" He sighed a little. "Pity."

No, nothing had – or nothing except the rather insane idea that maybe Michel himself could teach her how to kill vampires. She was, however, looking for a plan that would _work_ and that particular one was so flawed that it wasn't worth even considering. She probably wouldn't be able to do the deed _anyway_ for one – as mentioned, Kerry had a problem with _bugs_, let alone anything larger. Once they'd gotten a mouse in their house and Kerry had insisted that they trap it humanely so that she could release it back into the wild rather then killing it. And then there was the small fact that the stupid vampires were strong and she was not (or at least not anywhere near as strong as they were) and they had centuries to hone their killing techniques and she'd be lucky to have a few weeks and she would be fighting on their turf, as it were, unless she wanted to start tracking down vampires in the middle of the day and… the thought made her shudder, she deliberately turned her mind away. It wouldn't work anyway.

Charred vampires still floated in her mind, screaming and opera mixing in a horrible sort of cacophony. She opened her mouth to say something, anything really, to try and distract herself.

"Yeah," she said, looking down at her half-empty mug. "Can you think of anything? Because I can't. Really can't. I mean, _really_ can't, can't in such a big way that it-"

She felt his fingers press gently against her lips, stopping her from prattling on further, and she looked up at him in slight surprise. The touch had simply been unexpected, that was all. His eyes, however, had the effect that her words had not, effectively pulling her back into reality.

"All right, I get it," he said, tone completely serious and heartfelt. Was that a lie? "As for myself, no, I can't think of anything. Or nothing permanent. Would you like to go see a movie with me tomorrow? If, of course, you're not otherwise engaged."

Kerry blinked incredulously. _Surely not._ Her ears had to be malfunctioning again, because he had _not_ just told her that numerous persons of an undeniably dangerous nature were trying to kill her and that he didn't know what to do and then asked her out. Just… no.

"What?"

"A movie, Kerry. Surely you know what they are."

Ah, so she hadn't heard him wrong. Right, well now that made even less sense. "You know," she said after several moments of silence, when it became clear he wasn't going to say any more, "I don't think that you're taking the possibility of my imminent murder nearly as seriously as you should be."

"I doubt, Kerry," Michel said in a voice still perfectly calm, "it would be anything nearly so personal as murder. But never mind that, of _course_ I'm taking it seriously." He gave her a dazzling smile that showed off lots and _lots_ of pearly white teeth. "But if I am to protect you, even for a little while, then you will need to be spending every moment that the sun is down with me, at least until we can figure something else out. Are you a dedicated enough student that your father would believe you were coming over every night – including Saturdays and Sundays – early and staying out late to work on a science project?"

"I might be," she said, but a blush betrayed her. She'd gotten a D last term.

"I thought as much." He sounded far too satisfied. "So, unless you'd wish to take the easiest route and simply lead him to believe that you're sleeping with me-" her blush, which _had_ been fading, suddenly glowed, "-or leave home for some reason, perhaps say that you are going to live with your mother, saying you're going to a movie with a friend is a wonderfully convenient excuse. It won't last forever, but for one night…."

Kerry opened her mouth in either mortification or outrage, she wasn't quite sure which yet. She didn't get the chance to figure out which, as Michel smoothly cut her off. "I _thought_ you wouldn't agree to either of the first two. But, this being the case, a movie is as good a cover as any. You can go to one late at night, which is an easy enough way to stay out past when your family will have fallen asleep – they won't notice if you don't come back until significantly later than would be suspected, if that were the case. You can 'sleep in,' at least past dawn with that as an excuse as well, the fact that you were out late. We can even go to a real movie, if you like, so that you can tell your father what you went to see and what you think of it."

She paused, trying to figure out herself what seemed a tragic flaw. "But," she finally said slowly, "wouldn't a movie theater be a kind of bad place to be while you were supposed to be hiding from supernatural things who… you know, live in the dark?"

"There are a several reasons that they won't attack you there," he replied with no hesitation. "We can go and see a nice, calm movie – if anyone screams in that, people will assume that something is wrong, not just that the audience is reacting to the effects. The audience itself is actually another reason. Most, if not all, of them will not know about vampires. Those hunting you are trying to eliminate you specifically to prevent mortals from knowing of us. It would be pointless to kill you only to make believers of dozens of others, and if they simply attempted to kill the entire theater of people…." Michel paused and smirked. "They wouldn't dare. Such a move would be very… hm, noticeable, and that is exactly the kind of thing that we are trying to avoid."

"Couldn't they kinda sneak up on me though? I mean, it's dark. And if it's dark and I don't see them then other people won't see them either and I wouldn't have a chance to scream-"

"You are apparently forgetting that I will be with you. My eyes are far more sensitive to light than any humans; no one would be able to approach you without my noticing. That would give you enough time; something that the vampire in question would know. No, the movie theatre is a very safe place to be."

Kerry thought about it for a long while, and it seemed sound. But…. "I'm sorry, but I'm still not sure that I trust you." Love, yes, but love and trust were different – a thing that her father seemed very fond of pointing out.

He smiled charmingly. "Now, when have I ever given you cause to doubt me?"

The girl blinked. "What, would you like a list?"

He shrugged. "You're bringing up the past, it was a year ago. For all you know I could be a reformed soul."

"Do you even have a soul to attempt to reform?"

"No, not according to most theologies. But you're very swift to distrust me."

"Are you saying I don't have cause?"

"No, simply that you have – or should have, at least – more incentive to trust me then distrust me. Trust me, after all, and I'm saving your life. Which is why you need to _trust_ me with your life. I can't protect that which I have no control over."

"But I-" she started, only to completely forget what she'd been saying when Michel gently kissed her. His kiss this time was sweet, like chocolate, and also like chocolate did not last nearly long enough. After he pulled back he blinked, eyes almost hypnotic.

"Can you trust me, Kerry?"

"Yea, sure," she said almost without knowing what she was saying. Most of her attention was focused on her heart, which seemed to have become lodged somewhere in her throat and that was making it difficult to breathe.

"Good; a movie then?"

"Sure," Kerry said. Michel smiled. "I'll pick you up around five," he said, looking charming and positively angelic. He kissed her again (her thoughts, which she'd been in the process of collecting again, flew once more in every direction), then took the almost empty mug from her hands and set it on the table before leading her to a bedroom, thickly curtained with a comfortable twin bed sitting in the corner.

"Sweet dreams," he said again with that angelic smile, and Kerry sank down onto the bed and then further into a dreamless sleep in some confusion.

He woke her again before dawn the next morning and drove her home, staying with her in the car and telling her anecdotes until he had to leave because of the impending dawn – but that meant, of course, that neither were there any other – less friendly – vampires lurking just around the corner.

"You're picking me up at five, right?" Kerry asked as she climbed from the car.

"Yes – and Kerry, though I don't think it's likely anyone found you quite yet, be careful before I get here about strangers. Go and stay in a public place; invite friends over. Your family won't be enough, anyone who wanted to kill you could easily kill all three of you and make it look like Gilbert Marsala simply had comrades who had been waiting to take their revenge on you, a vampire who killed their master."

Kerry swallowed. "Yeah, all right. I'll… I'll see you, I guess."

"You will."

She watched him pull away down the street, then turned and snuck into her own house and up to her bedroom as the sky turned pink.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Breakfast had been uncomfortable.

Kerry had stumbled downstairs a few hours after creeping up to her bedroom and pulled a box of Cheerios down off the pantry shelf.

"So, Kerry," her dad had said in that hearty, fake-normal voice that parents seem to use so often, "why didn't you ever tell me about Daniel?"

Kerry had frozen for a moment and then carefully poured milk over her cereal. "What's to tell?"

"Come on, he's your lab partner."

"He's been absent for a while," she said weakly.

"He seems like a nice boy," her dad said causally.

_Oh no._

"Do you like him, then?"

_Aw crap._

Groaning inwardly, Kerry made a face at her cereal bowl, head bent so that her father wouldn't see. Why did parents always do this…? "Yeah, I guess," she said, looking to the side a little. Well, she did like him – love him, actually – but… she was talking to her father. There were certain things, such as boys you liked (or the fact that said boys were vampires) that you just didn't want to discuss with your father.

He'd looked way, way too happy at her statement anyway; _great Dad, make me feel like a total social reject…._ Not that he meant to, of course, or even that he really did. It was just parents… they did not always understand their children.

Still with that careful, I'm-not-probing-you-just-making-conversation voice, "Know if he likes you?"

_I'm so not having this conversation._

Kerry sighed, but it had to be said. "I think he might, he's taking me to a movie tonight."

Her father got so happy and inquisitive and proud and good-for-you-Kerry and suchlike that she had to quickly finish her cereal and then vanish up the stairs before she died. Not that it was his fault; he really was a pretty good guy. For years now he'd been playing both Dad and Mom, but Kerry didn't think that she'd ever get used to discussing such things with a parent, no matter which one it was.

The rest of the day was a similar trial, a mixture in equal parts of Ian teasing her ('Is he your boyfriend now?' the little boy had squeaked, then giggled) and her dad hovering, asking if she needed anything. Just what it was that he thought she would need or why she would need it Kerry wasn't quite sure, but after trying to convince him several times that she was fine she gave up and let him hover.

"Now, are you sure there's not anything I can do for you?" he asked one last time as she shoved him out of her room and then punted Ian after him.

"Tell me it gets better," she muttered, then pulled on a necklace (she didn't care which, but knew that she had to make the pretense, at least, of going glam or her father would REALLY worry about her) and a matching bracelet, threw on earrings that kind of matched outfit that she had pulled on and brushed on some makeup.

And then she had to wait. And wait. And wait. And she'd nearly gone nuts by the time the sun had set, what with the hovering and the teasing/admiration and was just about ready to do something like offer to run out for a gallon of milk. Except Michel had said not to do stuff like that, not when it was dark outside. Now, admittedly, it wasn't quite dark out, but it was getting close enough. Still, by the time the sun was setting, she was just about ready to do it anyway; who cared about the consequences.

Ian came up to her again, smiling that angelic little smile that he could do so well. It was hard staying mad at him when she knew how excited he was. She wasn't quite sure if he was excited because she got to go out or what, but it was very cute anyway.

"Here," Kerry finally sighed, "do you want to read a book?" And Ian's face broke into a brighter smile.

"Green Eggs and Ham?" Ah, his favorite.

Inwardly Kerry sighed, as Green Eggs and Ham seemed to be about the extent of Ian's reading list, but she nodded. He ran and got the book, then hopped up and wiggled around on her lap until he was comfortable. Kerry 'read' the book (she'd long since memorized the lines) and waited for Ian to trace out the fox and the train and the tree, smiling a little despite how tired she was of the book.

They'd just gotten to the last page when the doorbell rang. Kerry glanced up automatically, and then recited the rest of the rhyme at top speed. She closed the book and kissed the top of Ian's blonde head.

"You be a good little munchkin now, all right?"

Ian nodded happily and hopped off her lap. "Just a moment!" Kerry called at the door, wiggling a little as she straightened her clothes, and then paused for a moment and groaned as she saw her dad standing there with a 'fatherly' look on his face.

"Oh jeez, not now – we'll miss our movie! Listen, you can talk to him all you want later. Maybe next time he comes over, ok?" And he looked so pleased at the mention of 'next time' that Kerry almost got away with it, he recalled himself at the last second.

"Now Kerry, I really think-"

"Of course you do. Listen, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, daddy – don't wait up for me, you need your sleep." And he wouldn't get it if he did, but Kerry didn't say that. "Ok bye!"

"But Kerry!" he started saying, holding up a camera hopefully. The girl fled, opening the door only wide enough to slip through and then slamming it behind her and leaning back against the door.

"Hey," she began as she turned, smiling, to look up at the figure, "I'm sorry I kept you wai-"

It wasn't Michel. It wasn't anyone who she recognized at all.

He was tall and handsome, his sandy blonde hair and rich brown eyes matched his pallid complexion better then one might have expected. Muscles rippled under that ashen skin, and that sight made Kerry much more nervous than she normally would have been.

"Oh," the girl said, trying to keep her heart from leaping into her throat and almost succeeding, "sorry, I thought you were someone else. I guess they aren't here yet though, so I'll just go back inside. It's kind of cold out."

The boy – he looked only a little older than she – tilted his head a little to the side, examining her in what seemed a clinical manner.

"Funny," he said, "you don't look quite how I pictured."

"Sorry?" she asked, her hand groping its way back to the doorknob and gripping it so hard that the skin over her knuckles turned white. The only problem was, the door opened outwards, so it wasn't as though she could simply turn the handle and fall backwards to safety. If he was a vampire, it wouldn't be safety anyway. If he wasn't and was just some guy that she didn't recognize… how rude!

"Oh, that's no good," he said, gesturing to her hand, still gripping the doorknob, then stepped so close that he pressed Kerry against the door. He was pressed against her so hard that she could hardly get a decent breath, but she was going to try screaming anyway. As soon as she opened her mouth, his hand was pressed against it. She tried yelling anyway, but it seemed to make no sound in the frosty air from behind the muffling layer of flesh.

"None of that," he whispered, his cold lips brushing against her ear and making her flinch back. "You don't want more people out here, do you? How many do you want me to have to kill?"

She tried to shove him off of her, but she was not strong enough to overcome a vampire like that. He hardly wavered and laughed a little, as though at her efforts, before grabbing her wrists in his other hand, pinning those against the door as well.

"Don't worry," he told her in a soothing tone, "it doesn't have to hurt." And then she felt his lips press against her neck.

- - -

I'd just like to thank all those of you who pmed me or reviewed or dropped an email to offer to beta this - more people then I expected, certainly. Also, love to my betas!


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